


The Mage Trevelyan: The Major Arcana

by Vpelno



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Additional scenes added to base game, Cullen Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Fan Theories included, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Some Lines from original game, Trevelyan has issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vpelno/pseuds/Vpelno
Summary: After the prisoner makes a deal with Cassandra without him knowing, Cullen does his best to not let his rage and illness deter him from his investigation into the Mage's true identity. Meanwhile, Trevelyan does her best to hide her past and, with the help of Solas, figure out her new powers and stop the Breach.





	1. The Fool

 

  
  
Trevelyan felt her head lolling on her shoulders as she slowly came to consciousness. She her left hand ached as if a wound was left gaping in its center. Her eyes fluttered opened to more damp darkness. The floor was cold and wet, a single fading torch only vaguely illuminated her strange surroundings. Trevelyan looked down at her hands which were shackled to the floor. She took a breath and attempted to pull the chain from the ground. A door was opened before her, she began to pull more frantically. The sudden activity made her left palm burn more. Looking down at it again, Trevelyan could see strange looping markings burned into her skin. Then they began to glow. 

"Your awake, good." A smug voice noted as a group of soldiers swarmed into the room, swords drawn. Trevelyan sighed and stopped pulling. As she tried to relax her strangely glowing palm, it began to twitch and spark.

"What have you done to me?" Trevelyan demanded "Is this blood magic? A type of possession?"

A hooded woman with lily pale skin stepped out of the shadows "We've done nothing," She spoke with a slight accent. Orlesisan. "It was like that when we found you."

"Found me?" Before she could ask to clarify, another woman, this one fierce and bearing the eye of the Seeker, came barreling toward her.

"The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead," She snarled "We ripped you from the rubble. You are the only survivor, why?" 

Trevelyan peered into the woman's pained dark eyes "Everyone?" She looked to the hooded woman panicking " _ Everyone?"  _ She suddenly lost her breath as the word washed over her. "I-I-I swear I had- I had nothing to do with that. Please, everyone? Are you certain?"

"Are we- how dare you!" The Seeker surged forward but was held back by the hooded woman.

"Settle Cassandra," She released the woman once she had calmed and turned back to Trevelyan "We're wasting time. What do you know about the mark, what happened at the conclave?"

"Nothing, I swear," Trevelyan searched her mind for what happened after she arrive but, could only catch glimpses of green mist in her mind "Just let me go." She had to make certain her family was alright. Cassandra, the angry one, shared a few quiet words with the hooded woman before approaching her once more. Trevelyan flinched back as the imposing woman reached around her arm and pulled her to her feet. She dragged her outside, pushing her into the blinding white snow. Trevelyan grunted as she righted herself and looked up at the sky. Her jaw dropped once she saw it. An enormous green hole had been ripped through the middle of the sky. Trevelyan ducked out of the Seeker's reach and bolted down the path of the village they were in. She dodged the inhabitants and tried her best to navigate towards the main entrance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She squealed fearfully under her breath. It was the end of the bloody world. Suddenly, something gripped her around the ankle and pulled back hard. Trevelyan met the snow face first, scratching the skin of her bald head. The Seeker reeled in her whip from around Trevelyan's ankle. 

"Cullen said you would run," Cassandra panted above her "Try that again and I will fillet that mark from your hand myself." Trevelyan nodded frantically and allowed herself to be shoved to a stand once more.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"A hole in the Veil created from an explosion from the conclave," She motioned toward Trevelyan's hand "The Breach. The soldiers who found you-they say you stepped out of it after the blast."

Trevelyan raised her hands expressively as she could " _ What? _ "

"Ugh, come on." Cassandra dragged Trevelyan by her shackles toward the great pit in the sky. As they neared, she could see the destruction that thing was making. The entire battle field was splattered with blood and debris from whatever happened there. Soldiers bearing heraldry she didn't recognize ran to and fro' carrying the wounded and sending reinforcements. Trevelyan's heart sank to her stomach as she was hit with the memory of Belator's last stand. She wondered how many of the Templars were still alive once she had left. 

A crack of energy from the Breach drew her attention as the mark began to flicker and glow. "What-argh!" Trevelyan fell to her knees in agony. The bones in her hand felt like they were being crushed beneath a ten ton weight as the mark flashed brightly. Through her pain, she could feel the rock shake beneath her. Spewing out of the Breach, black rocks covered in green flame shot out and pounded the earth.

Cassandra came to her side and helped her up again "I have to stop this," Trevelyan wheezed as the pain dissipated " _ How _ do I stop this?"

"The Breach grows as your mark does," She said as they hustled further "We must use it somehow to close the Breach before it consumes the world and your life." The soldiers ahead began to fuss and scramble in all directions ahead of them. Both Trevelyan and Cassandra looked up to see one of the fiery rocks barrelling right towards them. Cassandra attempted to stumble across a small bridge before the impact but, they were too late. In an instant the ground beneath their feet crumbled into a pile. Trevelyan rolled painfully over the sharp edges of rock as she fell. She covered her head and tried to keep herself still until the sound of plummeting rock had passed. It was soon replaced with the clanging of swords. Her eyes hesitantly opened to see Cassandra, bloody and covered in ash, facing off against a demonic Shade.  Trevelyan righted herself to a sitting position. Every touch smarted as she dusted herself off. A shadow passed over her as she idled. 

“Shit!” Trevelyan rolled out of the way of the demon who had creeped up behind her. She stood and searched frantically for something to defend herself. With nothing but rock and ice surrounding her, Trevelyan had nothing but her dormant magic. She held up her restrained hands and focused her energy into them. “Come on, come on.” She mumbled to herself as the demon drew nearer, curious. It had been so long since she performed such a feat, it would be wonder if she could even manifest sparks. Suddenly, a shower of sparks sprayed from the metal lock on her chains. The clasp released and dropped into the snow.

Trevelyan scoffed and turned her power to the demon who reached out to grab her. However, this time nothing spouted from her fingers. She panicked and punched the demon in its twisted face. Her hand caught inside its gooey internals and began to absorb her. Trevelyan pulled back as hard as she could but she was trapped in the thick goo.

Looking to the Seeker, who was finishing off her adversary, Trevelyan called out “Help!” And proceeded to kick and pull herself from the demon’s grasp. Cassandra gave the Shade a final stab and swung her blade around, flicking off the iridescent blood. She rose her blade above their heads. Trevelyan ducked and pulled back as far as she could before Cassandra brought her blade down on the demon’s sloping head. Trevelyan was thrown back into the snow, the demon fell before her dead. She looked up to Cassandra, about to thank her. 

She held her blade to Trevelyan’s throat “You’re a mage?”

“I passed my Harrowing,” She raised her hands in surrender as she stood “I’m not a danger I was just-”

“Protecting yourself,” Cassandra gave her a hesitant once over and sheathed her sword “I cannot fault you for that, nor can I leave you defenseless.” She sighed and looked toward the Breach “Come, we must meet our main forces.”

 

                                                                                                                                                            ***       

 

Cullen looked deep into the craggy green tear hovering above the crater from which it rose. From where he stood the twisted remnants of the blast which hung in the air resembled a tornado stuck still. The way the wisps of grey smoke gently flowed through the air sickened him. Nothing so dangerous should look so controlled and still, especially with its body count. Not many survived the explosion and the few who did were either too scared, or too injured for battle. He stood outside his tent now, watching the few remaining Templar and nondescript soldiers who managed to survive the blast arming for their trip to the front lines.

"Commander Rutherford." The Antivan ambassador's voice gave him a start. He turned, finding the lovely Josephine Montilyet held a missive straight out to him. Cullen did not care much for nobility, still he bowed ever so slightly wanting to show respect for her as a colleague.

"Playing the messenger, I see." Cullen leaned on the tent post, crossing his left leg over the other "Were the fighting dignitaries not exciting enough for you?"

She lifted her index finger to push back a delicately curled strand of hair. "I assure you that the situation is under control." He smiled slightly at her pleasing lilt "I'm here to examine some of the documents and artifacts saved from Temple of Sacred Ashes." 

"Do you have someone accompanying you?" He saw no one by her side or awaiting her.

"No, it--it's just a couple of boxes." Lady Josephine brushed off.

"I can have one of the Templars assist you," Cullen waved over a scout to make the request.

"Really that's not necessary."

"It's no trouble, most of the men are itching to see some action, and really you'll be doing them a favor." He turned away for a moment to inform the scout.

"I suppose I could use the company..." Lady Josephine worried her bottom lip until it shone with a dusky rose hue "Well, I need to-ahem- get those boxes. Stay safe commander." Cullen couldn't help but watch her light frame disappear back through the tent and into the cold war zone. This week had been the most they'd ever spoken since he joined. He found that the more they did, the more he had trouble deciding whether or not he was feeling something less...professional for Josephine.  _Lady_  Josephine.

"Stay out of trouble Ambassador." Cullen allowed a quiet chuckle as he opened the letter. He read Cassandra's quickly scrawled message and continued to re-read it five times over.  _The Mage is finally awake. We charge the Breach now. Clear a path through the valley, we meet at the temple._  The ambassador's joyful aura was snuffed out by the news and replaced with his rigid frustration. Cullen knew Cassandra would force the mage to assist them, yet he was still unnerved that she would allow them to go directly into the field, and that it seemed he was the only one who was having conflict with the terrorist. No one had an inkling of the suspect's agenda, or why she even attended the conclave, yet Lady Josephine's faith and Leliana's willingness to go along with Cassandra's plan was baffling. The evidence was damning, a portal which demons can cross and a Mage with the power to potentially harness said portal. To Cullen, the prisoner's guilt was as clear as the steel on his sword. And yet, here he was, prepared to follow this apostate into hell on earth.

"Ser, we're ready on your order." Lysette, a knight recruit he stumbled upon, rallied the soldiers into formation. She was quite resilient, for an Orlesian Templar.

"We push through the valley, clear a path for the prisoner," Cullen crumpled the parchment and reached for his helmet. "You need not accompany us recruit." The words seemed to hang over Lysette for a moment before she shook her head and placed her own helmet over her tangled bun. Cullen sighed, he was trying to give her an out. "In line then, go on." He waved her off and began to mobilize his team.

The rag tag group of soldiers scrambled down the crater left from the blast. Chunks of-something littered the uneven ground. Most likely debris from the temple and pieces of what remained of the counsel but the thick blankets of snow and ash made it difficult to see. Cullen assured himself that each crunch of the unknown material beneath his feet was some form of brick, or anything else that would keep his mind off the fact there was death in every step he took. Despite his efforts, his mind began to wander to the darkest places.

_Running so fast despite broken ribs, covered in blood he tried to keep his eyes shut. He was trying so hard to ignore the faces he was trampling._

There were demons ahead. Cullen tried to lose himself—lose those demented memories in slashing every demon in his path. He could tell that these were the lackeys of the main force however, as there was no Rift in sight. Cullen found himself losing focus of as he fought.  _Was there a reason they were so far apart?_ His mind wandered past his memories and toward trivial questions about the Rifts as he tore off a Shade's dangling arm.  _Are the Rifts opening purposefully in strategic weak points?_  In the midst of his thoughts, demon's blood sprayed onto his helmet. The black ooze blocked his vision in thick strands which poured through his visor blinding him. Cullen tugs off his helmet and pawed at his eyes trying to clear his vision. Lysette approached having seen the struggle. She hacked at a demon coming to ambush him with her ax until it crumpled into a pile of discolored flesh and goo. Moments after its death, the body and its blood faded into a green mist which seemed to drift back toward the Breach. The blood on his faced disappeared too which helped clear Cullen's eyes but not his mind.

"Ser, we've reports of another Rift near the temple up north." Lysette relayed, trying to remind her commander of their task. Cullen nodded in a stiff uninterested motion and turned away to fetch his helmet. Catching his reflection in the scuffed metal, Cullen felt a rage boil inside of him. He needed to be here, he needed to save these people. How was he supposed to do that when he couldn't even think straight? Cullen grit his teeth and shoved his helmet back on and led his team further into the valley.

The group was frightfully close to the Breach. Cullen could feel his men's unease swell as they marched closer. One of them pointed out the rendezvous point, along with an eerie Rift, only a few meters away. A crumbled tower blocked their path. Cullen knew going through the unstable close quarters of the tower would leave them vulnerable but he had no time to complain. The group passed hesitantly through a few lopsided archways. The ruins were strangely silent and empty. When the Breach first appeared, and sent out the first Rifts, most who survived were torn apart in an instant. The demons had attacked the party even as near as the main camp. They were so close to both of the demon's portals, so why was it so damn quiet? 

Cullen motioned for two Templars to scout up ahead. Cullen knew how clever demons could be; he had to be sure this wasn't an ambush. However, the sound of tiptoeing boots seemed deafening in the silence. They had already given themselves away. Dust and bits of rock drifted from up above, interrupting his thoughts. Cullen stopped below a trickle of dust, the specks bounced off his helmet like rain. As he took a few tentative steps forward, eyes still focused on the dust, the stream followed. The fallen wall above him had a few chunks of brick missing where he could see straight to the sky. Cullen stood directly under it, squeezing the hilt of his sword. The stone shifted once more above his head before he plunged his blade through the bricks. A shrill scream pierced the air causing Cullen to rip his sword out and thrust again. This time, whatever he stabbed gripped his sword, pulling him up towards it.

Cullen waved his men to get out of the ruins "Ambush, get ready!" All the while, he struggled to pull his sword back. The muscles in his arms shook in the strain. He watched helplessly as a spiny claw swooped down from the hole in the fallen wall and grabbed him by his helmet. He could feel the demon start to smash the steel surrounding his skull, at which point Cullen abandoned his sword to try and pull himself from his helmet instead. The helmet began to constrict his vision and airway as he hung from his head. Cullen began to panic, his breaths catching in his throat as he slowly suffocated.

Lysette, who had fortunately stayed behind, jumped into action and slashed at the pale fleshy claws causing it to release Cullen. He fell in a panting heap, but quickly regained his composure after throwing off his crumpled helmet. The creature scrambled toward the commotion outside, taking his sword with it. Cullen attempted to follow but Lysette stopped him once she saw the gashes on his scalp. "Ser, you're injured!" She instantly moved to aid him but he brushed her off.

"Outside, the Rift." He growled and stormed past her. Just as before, the portal spat out more demons than they could vanquish, none of which had the same pale claws. Cullen ignored the lost relic for the time being and strode into the glen. He picked up a new sword from one of the fallen and joined in the skirmish. Fighting against any Rift has proven to be near impossible as the portal constantly spewed out hordes of demons every so often. Cullen prayed that they could hold out until Cassandra arrived.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, great red fireballs crashed into a group of wraiths, disintegrating them. Cullen whipped around toward the source of the shot; he prayed that they were allies. A woman in a familiar red cloak ran across the upper part of the glen firing bolts of energy into the fray. A mage dressed in Templar gear, the irony. Cassandra and Varric seemed to be accompanying the unknown Mage. No, she was the 'marked one', the prisoner. Whomever she was, she had not passed her Harrowing of that he was certain. Her aim was sporadic and she clearly had very few spells in her arsenal. Why did Cassandra allow her to use her magic, especially in a chaotic mess such as this? Cullen fumed at the Seeker's naiveté once more. 

The distraction proved harmful as another horde of demons spewed from the Fade. The force which pushed them out, forced Cullen to his knees. He felt himself succumbing to his wounds. He was concussed to hell and could barely focus his sight two feet in front of him. Another shrill wail echoed across the valley. Cullen tried to invigorate himself, feeling the desperation of every soldier around him. He rose to his feet painstakingly and refocused on the situation. There were more Terror demons now all of them were aggressively timely. When one demon stopped screaming another started, leaving his men disoriented. Cullen was deaf enough to ignore the piercing sound and took advantage by lunging at one in the middle of its chilling screech. Despite his injuries, he landed a solid stab that ran through the skeletal creature at an angle from the pelvis to the upper spinal. The demon wheezed a bloody hiss before keeling over dead.

Another Terror demon yanked Cullen away by his gorget. The steel cut into his throat and choking him. The demon bared its teeth, dribbling drool onto Cullen's chest. Cullen raised his sword to strike its chest but the demon shoved it embedding the blade in its scaly hand. There is a beat of silence, a stalemate between the two. The demon’s split jaw unhinged and prepared to snap on Cullen’s face when a flash of red passed behind the demon's head. The Terror lurched and loosened its grip.

Time seemed to resume as Cullen slipped from the demon's grasp and tumbled into the ashen ground. He heaved acrid blood and dirt onto the snow beneath him. Cullen pushed himself to stand ignoring the newly sustained injuries. The demon still stood behind him, he glanced around its willowy form. The Mage flung herself into the air and landed a blow with their stave. She bashed the creature’s skull in and continued to beat it into submission. Cullen turned away, determined to best another demon to make up for his error. He barreled through the hordes slicing the demon's hides until he was surrounded by a dreamlike green mist. Cullen looked around the battlefield with morbid curiosity. It was a haunting site to see that only human corpses littered the ground. He smirked at himself for thinking it was unfair that human bodies did not fade away as quickly as the demon's.

Cullen was called back to the Mage’s presence as she passed by him. Her red cloak was speckled with jade splotches of blood, a glorious contrast to the dark currant. Their hood fell around their neck and revealed a closely shaven head. Cullen, drawn by their electric aura, approached slowly behind them.

"Just concentrate." The other Elven apostate, who had joined just that morning, guided the Mage. The Mage whipped their marked hand out from beneath the cloak sending the fabric into a flurry. The mark sustained a flaming green light which only grew as she approached the Rift. She reached out to the Rift causing a subtle shimmering line stretch out between the mark and the portal. The shimmer slowly increased in brightness, turning into a blinding beam of light reaching into the Rift. It seemed to collapse into itself, turning into a ball of glowing green, and melting into liquid light. Breaking his gaze from the strange ritual, Cullen glanced at the crowd of soldiers now transfixed on the Mage. Everyone watched in silent awe as the Rift begun to shift and change. Cullen scoffed but as he looked on, even he could feel himself become strangely drawn in by the spectacle. He drew closer but stayed behind the mage just in case she would become wary of the infamous Templar's presence. About five feet behind her now, Cullen examined the way the red cloak twisted around the feminine figure. He could not deny the beauty of the scene nor of the woman in question. Cullen was jerked back to reality when he noticed the Rift began to pull the Mage physically toward it. She grasped onto her arm as the line going into the Fade pulled her in. Cullen jumped into action instinctively gripping her marked arm, pulling her back. Her head whipped around in shock.

"What are you doing?"

                                                                                                                  ***

 

Trevelyan tore her arm away from the bloodied man's grasp and continued to pour the mark's energy into the gleaming Rift. Her annoyance was lost in the Rift's light. It burst with a small shower of the bright green liquid before mending back out of existence. Trevelyan studied her palm, which slowly faded back into a pink lined scar. She felt the slight vibrations of magic within. It was strange, as if it were a separate entity, a parasite slowly feeding off the Fade. The bloody world was ending and everyone was relying on her and this  _thing_ to stop it. Trevelyan shook her head and turned back to the man who'd almost interrupted the process. However, he had stormed off toward the other soldiers looking a bit shaken before she could ask again.

"What does it feel like?" Solas' soft voice startled her "My apologies, I saw you studying it. May I?" He gently drew her palm near his face, it throbbed more as he moved it. Trevelyan could see his eyes trace the finger print-like scar. The hedge mage was the kindest person she'd met so far. Apparently the elf was well versed on the workings of the Fade and was acting as a magical adviser for this 'Inquisition'. 

"How did you know how the mark worked?" The elf's long ears twitched "You said you just...knew?" It was a literal shock when Solas forced her to close the Rift by the main camp.

"Instinct." He replied simply and released her hand "I'd heard you were found with the mark and accused of causing the explosion. I believed the mark would help." Solas nodded toward the empty space where the Rift had just been "And it did."

"So you think I did it?" Trevelyan couldn't blame him, she couldn't even recall. 

Solas quirked his mouth "I don't think it matters, now that you're trying to help." 

"Do you think it could close the Breach?" She asked hopefully.

"Given its ability to close Rifts, I suspect so." He closed her hand and released it.

Trevelyan drew her hand to her chest, studying his smiling eyes. She felt an odd lethargy around him. Trevelyan shook off the odd sense of calm and sought out the Seeker. She was speaking to the rude soldier from earlier. He was guiding the others back to the main camp as he spoke with her. Trevelyan approached quietly trying to eavesdrop.

"Commander!" Cassandra worriedly tried to get the man to receive aid. He waved her off but did pause from shouting orders to speak with her.

"Thank you for your help Seeker but," He gestured toward the Breach “You’re needed elsewhere."

"Don't thank me; it was the prisoner's doing." They both turned to look at Trevelyan, who quickly straightened herself from her hunched tip toeing. Trevelyan's gaze fell upon the 'Commander'. He was covered in blood and soot so thick she could barely make out any feature other than his eyes which shone with a fierce amber glare.

"So, you're the 'Herald of Andraste." Every word dripped with disdain as he sized her up. She ran her eyes up his six-foot frame right back and straightened herself in confidently to contrast with his weary posture. She noticed his head jerk back slightly at her posturing, but he did not challenge her. 

"This is Commander Cullen," Cassandra's eyebrows re-knit themselves in worry "He is a  _former_  knight captain." Trevelyan nodded once but said nothing despite knowing all to well the tragedy of the famous mad man Cullen Rutherford. It was beyond ironic that they would enlist the assistance of the Knight Captain who was so paranoid he almost murdered an entire Circle and allowed a mad woman to take over a city.

"I hope you know what you're doing." The commander seethed "We've lost a lot of men and resources to getting you here."

"I'm sure," Trevelyan spoke with bite "I'll do what I can."

The commander was taken aback; he paused, frustrated, trying to find something to say. She could tell this Templar fell in line with the other survivors who had already decided her guilt. The commander took a wounded man by the arm and threw it around his neck. "Maker watch over you...for all our sakes." He solemnly dragged the soldier back towards the main camp. Cassandra shrugged and gestured for her own team to depart as well. Trevelyan takes a last look back at him, watching him carefully until the snow bid her to look onward.

The distance between the last Rift and the Temple of Sacred Ashes was filled with petrified bodies. It was horrifying that so many still stood even after demons began roaming the Breach site. The bodies were contorted with burned faces stuck in silent screams. Trevelyan studied the faces of each charred corpse. She wondered, if her mother attended. Trevelyan's focus veered back to the Breach. The nearer they were, the louder the spirits became. She didn't even notice when she entered the temple ruins, just focused on the glowing green vortex that was suddenly right above her head. The whispers rose into a jarring howl, along with visions of grey demons and blackened skies roaming through her mind. It had been so long since she felt that connection. Was it always this loud?

"Long way up." Varric observed. Trevelyan broke her gaze from the Breach and nodded once. He noticed her anxious silence. "Afraid of heights?" Movement behind them interrupted her answer.

"You made it!" The Left Hand, Leliana bounded into the temple through a collapsed archway; a sturdy group of soldiers followed behind.

"Barely, did you see the commander on your way here?" Cassandra crossed her arms tightly "He was injured but—he wouldn't let anyone help him."

"Trust me, Cullen's been through worse." Leliana reassured. She turned back to the soldiers directing them to strategic defense positions around the clearing. The voices streaming out from the Breach called Trevelyan once more. She was no longer used to blocking them out. It difficult trying to focus on Cassandra's plan. She found she couldn’t match a single voice to the woman’s in front of her.

The shrill cries only grew louder the more she tried to focus "Just tell me what to do." Trevelyan broke in. Cassandra's expression flared slightly in annoyance.

"You’re just going to try and close the main Rift, understood?" She nodded and Cassandra marched past her. The seeker led the group around the elevated foundation surrounding the clearing. Trevelyan noticed glowing red rocks scattered around the area much like the scraps of debris from the explosion. Red, glowing, and harboring ominous magical properties, entirely fascinating.

"It's red lyrium." Varric piped up behind her. Varric Tethras, a dwarf and new ally. He irritated Cassandra to no end with his quips and surprising historical knowledge.

"Why is it red? Why is it  _here_?" Trevelyan stopped to poke a larger piece with her halberd. However, Varric grabbed her arm and held her back before it made contact.

"Where have you been the past ten years?" Varric chuckled "We have to get going so-for now let’s just say it’s bad to be around it and worse to touch it." Trevelyan nodded and continued along the path until she reached the edge of the foundation and jumped off . As soon as her boots hit the ground, she felt the mark 'fluctuate'—change somehow. It felt like something was opening up, a release of some sort. The searing sensation dissipated, it was instead replaced with a shock that ran along Trevelyan's body. She keeled over from the jolts of magic running through her. The Breach seemed to react to whatever was happening to her. It burst with light that began projecting images into the air.

"...Please! Help me!" The Divine's voice rose from a green figure crucified in mid-air.

"Silence the sacrifice." The deep booming voice resonated with every soul observing the scene.

"What's going on here?" The image of Trevelyan looked like she was about to confront the assailant when another green flash blinded the group.

Cassandra uncovered her eyes once the light dimmed down. "The Divine! You were there!" She stormed to Trevelyan who was still recovering from the mark "What happened, is this true?!" Solas blocked Cassandra from getting nearer.

"I—I don't remember any of that." Trevelyan stood back up as the pain had lessened a bit.

"It was only the Fade," Solas defended "When spirits see something interesting they try to capture the scene using their powers. The spirits who saw what happened must have lingered." Solas approached the Rift, examining the rock-like structure.

"This Rift is sealed. However, I believe you can use the mark to open it once more." He explained while Cassandra helped her stand.

"Everyone!" Cassandra addressed the soldiers "Stand ready!"

Trevelyan steeled herself as she approached the tear. Every step she took filled her with an unyielding doom. It was like being taken back to the Circle, walking away from Demascus, leaving Lydia. She grit her teeth and plunged her hand in the Rift's light. Her breath caught when the mark burst with a blinding green light that connected with the giant crystal. The contact with the Breach unlocked something within the mark, something powerful.

 

                                                                                                                 ***

         

Cullen trudged along the ashen path back to Haven. The way was relatively clear; he hoped the demons drawn across the Veil would be more attracted to the Mage rather than these refugees. Looking around, Cullen felt a disturbing indifference to the dirty, wounded survivors surrounding him. Years in that Circle had spoiled him with the many wonders of human barbarity and the corruption of magic. Truly, nothing surprised him these days, not when the end of the world was constantly on the horizon.

Cullen felt a pang of dread accompanied by a sudden chill prickling down his back. He felt pressure drop across the valley—some sort of magical release. He could feel the energy strumming through his chest like the soundboard of a lyre. He looked around to the other remaining Templars and mages. Some stood still, suspiciously peering out into the distance. Cullen slowly pushed past the crowd to get a better look at the Breach. The sky was overcast, the clouds tinged green by the light of the giant tear. One of the strangest phenomena caused by the explosion, other than the strange portals to the Fade, were the chunks of floating debris dotted across the sky. All across the valley, various pieces of the Temple of Sacred Ashes hung like brittle chandeliers somehow suspended mid-air by the power of the Fade. From the thinning crowd, Cullen caught sight of a group of said debris near the blast site. There was half an arch and broken pieces of a decorative window hovering about a mile above the ground. From his position, he could scarcely see what image was painted onto the glass but he could suddenly see reflections of blue light flashing off the window’s surface. The window slowly fell back to the ground, shattering into tiny blue shards like bits of Lyrium. Then the arch fell, then a few rocks nearer, and a few more. They fell faster and faster and came closer as each grouping plummeted to the ground.

Cullen looked to the rocks hanging above them "Fuck..." He whispered, "Everyone needs to move!" Cullen broke out into a sprint trying to get everyone he could to his or her feet. The reaction was slow, like a wave of fear slowly passing through the crowd of people. Before long, everyone was screaming and trampling over each other to get out of there. Cullen tried to hang back for as long as he could to try to make sure no one was left behind. He looked back up to the hail of stone; it was racing toward the crowd within a steady walking pace now. Cullen began sprinting back up to the crowd. His heart beat almost as fast as the sound of the debris crashing into the ground behind him. Around him, the remaining trees and standing rubble lurched over pushed by wind bursting from the multiple impacts.

"Commander!" Josephine's ragged voice squealed from behind a thicket of fallen trees. Cullen caught a glimpse of her rich brown furs tangled in the branches. He skid to a halt falling in the snow momentarily. He quickly scrambled back up and ran toward her. Cullen used a knife to tear away branches and pieces of fabric caught on twigs until she was free. "I'm fine I--I'm fine!" Josephine pulled herself up and immediately ran toward another fallen figure a few feet away.

"Is he alive?" Cullen scanned the body. The boy's side was impaled with one of the tree's branches, which seemed to be the worst but not the only sustained injury. He recognized the recruit, Tyrell something-or-rather. Josephine checked for a pulse and nodded frantically.

"He is!" Cullen looked back toward the incoming hailstorm and back at the branch that remained connected to the fallen tree. Cullen's nostrils flared in frustration. Could they afford to save him? Josephine looked up at him with a terrified slate gaze. Cullen steeled himself and whipped out his sword.

"Hold him still." He growled and released a powerful swing onto the branch. It cracked; Cullen took a breath and hacked again at the damp bark. It fell with a solid thud and made it easier to move the soldier. Josephine took one of Tyrell's arms and slung it around her shoulder and tried her best to sit him up. She struggled to lift his tall frame even when Cullen grabbed his other arm. Cullen grunted and took Tyrell from Josephine, hefting him upon his shoulders. "Let's go." He huffed and jogged sluggishly through the snow.

It didn't take long to realize the trio was moving far too slowly. Cullen could already feel the gusts of air from the falling rocks on the back of his neck. He glanced up at the sky and found that it was relatively clear but he could not properly acquaint with how large the actual rocks were until it was too late. They just needed some cover until the wave passed them. Cullen tried his best to seek out some sort of shelter nearby. They were coming close to a frozen pond. An old stone bridge crossed over it. It was small and looked unstable, but it was better than having nothing over them. "Follow me!" Cullen shouted back at Josephine as he ran. She grunted in what he hoped was affirmation and turned toward his trajectory. The stones seemed right behind them, and likely were. All he could hear was the panicked beating of his own heart, the sound of each chunk of rubble smashing into the earth, and his sprinting footsteps which seemed too slow. An overbearing symphony of banging and crashing. A window shattered behind them causing a gust of ash and glass to sweep past them just as they leaped onto the frozen water. Josephine slid easily under the bridge and helped lay Tyrell down. Cullen took a moment to try to make sure the ice wouldn’t fall from beneath them. He stabbed and stomped, but the ice thankfully held.

Cullen closed his eyes held Josephine and Tyrell tightly close to him until he was sure the hail had passed them. Boulders smashed into the frozen pond and the bridge overhead but neither fell completely, thank the Maker. Cullen prayed quietly as the group huddled closer against the wall. Eventually the impact of the boulders sounded like thunder crashing through the air instead of someone firing a cannon next to his ear. However, he only felt the need to release his two companions when he felt a dribble of warm liquid dampen his thigh. He opened his eyes quickly realizing Tyrell was still bleeding out. His breaths were labored and his pulse was faint. Cullen took off his gloves and reached for the branch still lodged in his side, he took a beat to catch his breath and quickly ripped it out. Thankfully, the wound was shallow enough that he could pluck out the outer splinters easily. This would lessen the chance of infection, but it wouldn't do much for the bleeding. The boy moaned quietly in pain. Josephine gagged audibly behind him.

He turned to check on her "Don't worry about me!" She muffled her wet voice beneath her hand. Cullen opened his mouth to comfort her, tell her they would be alright, he was interrupted by another hoarse heaving noise. Cullen decided to sit quietly and focus on monitoring Tyrell's condition. He tore off his and Tyrell’s armor skirting and wrapped the wound as tightly as possible. After the ambassador finally emptied her nervous stomach behind him, she sat against the wall. Lady Josephine made an effort to seem unfazed but it was obvious she was quite shaken. She sat straight and--almost  _dignified_ despite what was likely the noble’s first experience with any sort of danger. Still he could see the slight tremors even through her torn layers of fur.

"Maker's breath, you don't have to stay strong for me Ambassador." Cullen grimaced and glanced back at the panting noble woman. She wiped the dribble from her chin and nodded at him. Cullen cleared his throat and shrugged Tyrell's arm over his shoulder. He was suddenly reminded of his first mission, a test before he became a Knight. Killing his first abomination took everything from him, and it took even more to compose himself until he could vomit behind the stables. He turned to the Ambassador, who had used the snow to wash her face and mouth, he gestured for her assistance. "We need to hurry."

Lady Josephine nodded with a focused frown and took the fallen soldier's other arm. Cullen heard the boy groan in pain, he may just live through this.

 

                                                                                                               ***

 

Every bone in Trevelyan's arm was suddenly being crushed by the power of the mark. Harnessing the wave of magic felt like trying to lift a boulder single-handedly. This Rift-the Breach's Rift was immensely harder to crack than the previous tears. It was much more powerful. The magic which pulled her toward the previous Rifts was increased ten-fold. Trevelyan tried to use a force spell to keep herself grounded; it only lessened the pulling to more sporadic jerking. As the Rift finally began to split open, a rush of screams poured out the opening in the Veil. Trevelyan turned away, breaking her connection to the Breach. A blast of magic knocked her over. She landed a few feet away, skinned her hands by catching herself on the gravel covered ground. Trevelyan barely registered the pain as the wailing spirits swam through her mind. She could barely concentrate as the voices desperately blocked her focus with visions of her brother mangled and screaming.

Trevelyan clutched her head with her unmarked hand and stood, fighting to grasp onto her own thoughts. If she succumbed any further she would be at risk of possession. Trevelyan squinted trying to see past the bright blur of the opened Rift. It seemed that during her episode, she missed the entrance of a ferocious pride demon. It was larger than any spirit or shade she fought before and was covered in sharp purple horns. Trevelyan heard Cassandra's war cry and watched helplessly as the soldiers attacked. Leliana and her archers, Cassandra and her foot soldiers, all let loose upon the gargantuan creature. Trevelyan gripped her stave considerably tighter, her chance of survival was looking worse by the second.

Arrows hailed onto the demon as she ran toward the fray, some pierced its scaly flesh, but most broke or bounced weakly off its armor. The demon chortled heartily and lashed out at the archers with a lightening whip flinging them like ants. Cassandra took advantage of the distraction and stealthily led the foot soldiers through a direct attack, barely wounding the creature's feet. It looked down curiously with its head cocked like a dog. Unlike any house pet, the demon clawed at the soldiers, leaving grisly lines of body parts in the dirt and snow. Trevelyan let loose a couple bolts of energy and watched as the ones that hit, bounced off an invisible shield around the creature. The demon slowly turned toward her and raised its enormous claw in her direction as if to fire at her. Trevelyan darted out of its line of sight, towards the Seeker's outfit and nodded in greeting. The blast missed her by a meter but the group is showered with pebbles and dirt from the explosion.

"It's too strong," Cassandra yells as she shields herself and Trevelyan from the rain of dirt "It has some sort of magical barrier, we can't hurt it!" Panting, Trevelyan glanced back toward the Breach. Any attempt to close a Rift resulted in weakening and even killing any surviving demons. It could do the same for the pride demon.

"Do you have any ideas?" Cassandra caught Trevelyan pondering.

"Just one." She sighed gesturing toward the demon that stood in her way of the Breach. "Need to get past him though." 

"We'll cover you." Cassandra assured and waved over more men. Trevelyan began to lead the group toward the demon directly. As they approached, Trevelyan picked up her pace while the soldiers fell behind and split off into smaller groups. The demon was slow to notice their ambush which allowed Trevelyan to slip past while Cassandra assailed it once more. Closer to the Breach, the mark lit up on its own and dragged Trevelyan into its light. The spirits wailed and tore at the Veil; they grasped onto the mark's light and pulled her closer. She held out the mark willingly but stood her ground utilizing a simple force spell to keep her from being pulled further. The Rift solidified back into its former crystallized form and eventually released its grip on the mark. Trevelyan gasped at the release and fell slightly back. Beads of sweat trailed down her nose and dripped onto the gravel. She turned back toward the monster. It knelt as if in prayer and didn't fight back as the soldiers ravaged its lower body. The soldiers gathered upon it lash out, not wasting a breath. Trevelyan hesitated sending a few bolts from her stave, observing the creature before attacking. He seemed to look over his shoulder, straight at her. Trevelyan's heart jumped in her chest. Its eyes were no longer a blank glaring light, they are human, a rust tinged brown.

Time seems to slow to a stop until all that remains is their gaze. A sinister baritone voice invaded her thoughts.  ** _Thief!_** It accused. The demon shot out a mangled claw and fired a giant ball of energy toward her. The orb got bigger and brighter, the energy inside swarming like a hoard of fire flies. Trevelyan was slow to come back to herself and barely dodged the blast. The force of the explosion sends her rolling into a boulder, her back smacks against the sharp stone. In an instant, Varric was at her side and the demon stood once more.

"Damn it kid," He scolds and helps Trevelyan stand "You were looking right at it. Kid? Hey!" Varric waved Bianca in Trevelyan's face.

She looked down confused "What?"

"Demons? The Breach? C'mon, focus for Andraste's sake!" Trevelyan nodded but doesn't move until she sees the silhouettes of Shade demons slipping through the Breach. She scrambled to stand and charged the three demons. Trevelyan didn't have the focus to use her magic and instead gave them an old fashiod slashing with the blade of her halberd. Varric covered for her and fired off bolts from afar. He landed one of his steely bolts right into a demon's maw, splattering dark green ooze all over the other demon. Trevelyan glances back at the soldiers fighting the pride demon. Ten soldiers are skewered on the demon's claws, and still it uses them to swipe at the ones still alive. Most men jump back horrified, others try their best to ignore the flailing organs of their former comrades. Trevelyan also caught the soldier's weapons and projectiles bouncing off once more. A glimmer surrounding the demon confirmed that the demon had raised another shield.

Trevelyan took a chance and raced toward the Breach once more. Her pounding feet kick up ash and gravel as she runs.  _ **Don't you know,**  _a sickly-sweet whisper crept into her mind,  ** _you might just see your brother?_  **Trevelyan almost tripped over her own feet trying to stop and listen. Looking around, the plaza is empty save for herself and the Breach. Trevelyan jerked around frantically searching for the source of the voice. A hollow laugh echoes around her, she tried to slash around her but her blade met nothing but the green mist around her.  ** _Hush now, don't make me drag your mother here._**  Trevelyan's forearm began to burn. She yanked her sleeve down and found her brand had spread over her entire forearm. The burns glowed blue like intertwining rivers.  _ **Careful thief,**  _the demon whispered into her ear,  _ **you don't want to end up like your brother, do you?**  _Trevelyan felt a breathtaking pressure slam her from behind. Shaking, she looked down slowly in pure shock; an entire bloodied arm holding out a sword protruded from her torso. Trevelyan's hands hovered over the claw. As she reached to pull the sword from its grasp, the arm slid back out slowly with a sickening squelch. Trevelyan fell to her knees and instinctively held her hands against the wound. Over her labored breaths, she could hear someone toward her from behind.

"What the fuck happened?" Varric exclaimed.

"Maker!" Trevelyan whimpered in disbelief. Now it was Varric's turn to be surprised when he removed her clawing hands from her stomach. "T-there's nothing here...?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Trevelyan looked down to assess the stab wound but, there was nothing. She lifted her shirt further, pulling and squeezing her tanned flesh. "Look the Fade is just messing with your mind." Varric held out a hand. Trevelyan accepted it and struggled to stand. She looked around for a moment making certain she wasn't having another delusion. "What's wrong?"

Trevelyan didn’t answer, just ran toward the Rift marked hand outstretched. She heard Varric grumbling to himself behind her. "You can't be here when I do this!" She yelled over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry but I don't think you should be alone right now." Varric panted as he tried to keep up "I know I wouldn't want to die alone." Trevelyan knew it was meant to be a reassurance but, he was right. Whatever happened earlier shook her focus, she couldn't afford to have it happen again.

Still, Trevelyan felt there had been too many sacrifices for one day. She whipped around and used another force spell to create a barrier between the Rift and the rest of the plaza. Varric barely stopped himself in front of the shield. He leaned on it and smirked, defeated. Trevelyan made a sharp salute before turning around and imbuing all her magic into the mark. Unsurprisingly, it felt like her entire arm was about to be ripped off. Trevelyan screamed angrily and gripped onto her arm in case it did in fact fly off her body. She looked up and watched shock waves from the mark flow up into the Breach in white blasts. Her body ached and her mind began to fade. Slowly and yet all at once, the blinding green light faded to black.

 

                                                                                                                      ***

       

The view of Haven was a gift from the Maker. Tyrell was barely holding on, and Lady Josephine was exhausted. They were met with a crowd of soldiers who took Tyrell for treatment and began looking over his and the ambassador's wounds. The soldiers led them into the bustling village, where he bid Josephine farewell as he was being shoved toward the medical tents. The stench of blood and death did nothing but wrinkle Cullen's nose but he was glad to escape the images of the hundreds of injured refugees and soldiers. He was ushered into one of the tents, which only smelled like bitter medicine, there he was quickly examined and patched up the best the healer could manage. He had sustained a serious head injury, multiple broken ribs, bruises and other less fatal scratches. The healer insisted he rest and though he initially refused, Cullen could not help the fog of sleep which overcame him.


	2. The Fool Reversed

Trevelyan woke up groggy with eyes still sealed shut by sleep. The pale sunlight that drifted in from the small window burned her eyes as she laid heavy and motionless. Before she could even gather her bearings, there was a thud followed by someone whimpering. Trevelyan sat up. There was a thin auburn haired elf bowing on the floor in front of her.

"I beg for your forgiveness and your blessing," She was shivering "I didn't know you were awake!"

“Alright, alright,” Trevelyan attempted to place calming hands on the woman’s shoulders.

The woman became even more hysterical “Oh, my-” She gasped and skittered away from her touch “I was to tell the Seeker when you woke! She said ‘at once’.”

“Wait, where are we? Is the tear in the Veil closed?” She had so many questions but the elf seemed too preoccupied to answer even one.

“You’ll find the lady Seeker in the Chantry. At once, she said!” The skittish elf tore out of the room leaving Trevelyan cold and confused. She looked around the room. This wasn’t like the dungeon she awoke in. It was clean, decorated and felt like someone’s home. Trevelyan shivered and examined the clothes that were brought for her. It was the same brown and green uniform she had seen the soldiers wear. Trevelyan shrugged on the outfit over the underclothes she had on, glad that they made her considerably warmer. 

She opened the door and first looked to the sky. The Breach was still split open above her but the whirl of energy and floating rocks had disappeared. Trevelyan then looked down to find lines of people waiting outside. They all waited in silence as she emerged from the little house. She walked hesitantly past, waiting for someone to jump out of the crowd calling ‘apostate’. Instead, they stared at her in awe as they murmured to each other about 'the Herald of Andraste'. The association was not lost on her but it did little to comfort her. In fact, it scared her. Trevelyan rushed into the Chantry as soon as it was in sight and slammed the doors shut behind her. Keening an ear, it didn’t sound like they were going to break it down but, she jogged ahead just in case. No one could know her true identity, especially if Belator tried to track her down. As she walked, Trevelyan could hear people arguing in a lit room at the end of the hall. As she moved closer she heard Seeker Cassandra defending against a familiar brittle voice.

Trevelyan opened the door “Chain her!” Two Templar guarding the door each took a step toward her. Trevelyan instinctively raised her hands in the air. She attempted to imbue them with the same fire she used in the valley but she couldn't even conjure sparks.

“Stay your hands Templars!” Cassandra bellowed and the Templars stepped back “Leave us!” They bowed and slipped out, closing the door behind them. Trevelyan relaxed her arms and finally saw the familiar Chancellor who was at odds with both Cassandra and Leliana. Roderick was his name.

His face almost glowed bright red as he retorted “You would defy a direct order from the Chantry? On what authority?” Cassandra suddenly slammed an old book on the table. It was aged brown and had the same eye pattern that the soldiers wore on their cloaks.

“This is the Divine’s directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos,” Leliana stood over Roderick imposingly “We will complete her mission, not because you allowed us, but because it ought to be done.” Roderick shriveled in the sister’s gaze and stormed out of the room.

Cassandra exhaled and leaned over the book “As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn," Her voice rose and for the first time, Cassandra smiled.

“I don’t even want to know what’s going on,” Trevelyan crossed her arms “I tried to-the mark failed okay? It failed. Can I go now?”

“The Breach is still a threat,” The smile was gone “You can’t just walk away with the one thing that might still help us!”

Trevelyan threw up her hands in frustration “So you’re just going to hold me here? Even after all I’ve done- _ risked _ for you?”

“We have not forgotten,” Leliana spoke up “However, your mark is the only defense we have against the Breach. We still need to find who or what was responsible and bring  back order.”

“The Maker sent you in our darkest hour,” Cassandra insisted “All we ask is that you stay to make this right.” Trevelyan winced at the Maker’s name. So that was it, she was Andraste’s herald now? She rubbed her face anxiously and considered. On one hand she was trapped in the spotlight and could be found by one of Belator’s lackeys at any moment. On the other, this ‘inquisition’ could prove to be a decent shelter given she had a wide berth between her and civilization. 

Trevelyan looked down at the map of Thedas painted onto the war table in front of her. She traced the mountains surrounding Haven. “I want to discuss the terms of my stay here.” 

 

  
***

 

  
Cullen was absolutely restless. His wounds were not yet completely healed but, they wouldn’t be leading an attack any time soon. The Breach was not yet closed only weakened and the few interested parties, the Inquisition and Chantry, were at a stalemate on how to deal with the situation. However, that was the Ambassador's mess, not his. Speaking of whom, she was rifling through the documents saved from the blast trying to get a lead on their prisoner’s identity. Cullen was hoping to find something before she woke up and started causing trouble...again.

“What happened to your sword?” Cullen looked up from the map he was marking to glance at Josephine and then down to his empty sheath. He hadn’t even realized he had put it back on.

“Demon ran off with it,” He hunched back over his map of Haven, hoping that would stop her inquiries.

“I noticed you kept your sword from the Order but, not your armor, or even your shield?” 

"Good eye. Have you found anything yet?” Cullen determinedly changed the subject.

Josephine opened her mouth to ask again but finally thought better of it “Sort of,” She stood and walked carefully around the stacks of documents saved from the blast. “The heraldry on the prisoner's armor belongs to House Trevelyan. Though it could have been stolen, I doubt such an incident would've gone unnoticed by one of the Chantry's most devoted houses.”

“So it's a cover up,” Cullen scoffed “Were there any other Trevelyans in attendance? We need to know if they slipped in with the other refug-gah!” Cullen stood too quickly making his healing wounds throb. He gasped in pain and fell back into his chair.

“Cullen!” Josephine knelt beside him “I knew it was a mistake to bother you this early!”

“Yes—I mean I’m—I’m fine, I assure you.” Cullen felt her hand rest against his knee. Looking down at her, Cullen fell into her soulful dark eyes and hesitantly drew a hand near her face. When she thoughtlessly leaned in to his touch, reality struck him as well as another jolt of pain. Cullen drew his hand back as his head throbbed, interrupting the moment of sweet respite. “I—I must go.” Cullen stood up from the chair, slowly this time, and trudged toward the door. He struggled to put on his coat, gentle hands helped him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Josephine asked as she ran her hands over the crooked tan feathers on his collar. Cullen’s heart was beating so loud he barely heard himself decline and flew out of the door.

The brisk wind and snow did nothing to calm him. He cursed himself quietly for seeing things that weren’t there. He doubted it could be done—if she could want him as well. At this point, he was certain everyone knew of his long list of mistakes from Kinloch to Kirkwall. The call of a crow broke his train of thought. He realized that he had walked all the way into Haven without noticing. The small village was mostly empty and those who remained were all making their way toward the Chantry. Cullen pulled his black cloak tighter around himself and made his way there as well. People crowded around the Chantry murmuring, a line of soldiers kept them from coming inside. Cullen could see Lysette talking down a group of frazzled sisters and began pushing through the crowd to reach her.

“Recruit!” Cullen yelled capturing everyone’s attention. The line of soldiers spread out to clear a path for him.

“Commander!” Lysette pulled away from the sisters and saluted him.

"What’s going on here?”

"The prisoner is speaking with the right and left hands of the Divine."

Cullen's nostrils flared angrily "Why wasn't I informed?"

“I—I thought you knew.” Cullen fumed and brushed past the recruit and practically threw open the doors of the Chantry. He stormed inside the dimly lit hall, his footsteps echoing on the stone floors. He saw Chancellor Roderick discussing something with two Templars. When he noticed Cullen staring, he quickly hushed his companions and stormed past him without giving him a second look. Cullen rolled his eyes and closed the gap between him and the war room. He paused by the door and scowled as he listened to the conversation.

“And if I refuse?” A voice he didn't recognize, the prisoner?

“We are the only ones who stand between you and the Chantry,” Leliana, smug as always “Anyone else would gladly have you executed for the Divine’s death.”

“No matter who you are or why you were there, you were exactly what we needed when we needed it,” Cassandra spouted like a Chantry sister “The Herald of Andraste.”

“Excuse me?” Both he and the prisoner exclaimed as he ripped open the door. Cullen glanced at her in slight surprise before turning his anger towards the Seeker.

“Commander.” She greeted through grit teeth.

“What is this madness?” He burst “You would let her roam freely, grant her amnesty knowing she might be the cause of all this?”

“Be calm, ser.” The  _Mage_ ordering  _him_ around? Cullen stepped into her personal space but Cassandra quickly whizzed around the table to block them.

“Stand down, both of you!” Cassandra ushered Cullen to the other side of the war table. He took in a sharp breath and could regain his composure but still seethed. “You’re better than this.” Cassandra scolded.

“Why did you not call me in?”

“You are already injured and tasked with so much in protecting Haven,” Cassandra tried to explain “Sister Leliana and I were going to take care of this while you rested.”

“And the mage? We were to have a trial—.”

“We have no time for trials with the Breach still active, Commander," Leliana chimed in. “You may not agree but you cannot deny the fact that the Herald is our only hope in closing the Breach.”

Cullen paused, running a shaking hand through his hair “What were their terms?” He glowered down at the table.

“My name is Trevelyan,” The mage said “I will help your ‘inquisition’ close the Breach and, assuming I live through this, leave. Quietly.”

“In the meantime, she will be under your command,” Leliana informed.

“So, she is my ward then?” Cullen scoffed and threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine, but stray from my orders and, trust me, you will regret it.” Cullen waited for a response but only got an uninterested stare. He exhaled furiously through his nostrils and turned on his heel to leave.

“Well,” Leliana smirked “Let’s not keep the public waiting.”

  
  
***

 

The Seeker, the Sister, the Commander and a woman Trevelyan had not yet met, stood before the crowd that had gathered in front of the Chantry. She pulled her hood back up and struggled to keep her gaze from flitting from person to person nervously. Her fingers sparked slightly at her discomfort. Trevelyan squeezed both her hands into her armpits, drawing the sour gaze of the Commander. She straightened her shoulders and tried her best to look unperturbed. Cassandra inched closer to her, close enough to gently bump shoulders. She eyed her with a knit brow.

"What are you looking at?" Trevelyan took a step away from her and crossed her arms tighter. The Commander kept an eye on every minuscule movement she made, irritating her even more. 

"Over the last two weeks-no, over the past decade, the Maker has tested us," Leliana roused suddenly "The Blight, the Qunari, the recent rebellion, all of it has tested our faith. Casting this world into darkness with demons and a hole in the sky that took our most holy away from us. But we will not kneel to the demons, we will not falter at Divine Justinia's death. We will emerge in Andraste's light and plunge into darkness unafraid!" The crowd cheered and their eyes filled with abundant hope. Their smiles thrummed a pessimistic cord within Trevelyan's chest and she could no longer stand to watch them. Sooner or later, she would have to see them fall. She wanted to run. Duck out of eyesight to collect herself but the others were already heading back inside.

The Commander stopped to glare "Move." He growled, but he made no move to force her. Trevelyan frowned and stomped past him into the Chantry. Her arms were sore from holding her arms so tight. She released them, shaking out the prickling sensation of blood rushing back into her fingers.

"Does it trouble you?" Cassandra asked, suddenly by her side.

"It's fine, now that it's not _actively_ trying to kill me," Trevelyan said "Tell me Seeker, how do you suppose we attack the Breach now?" 

She nodded toward the door, opening it for her "There is a plan but, I'm afraid there's something else we must discuss first." Trevelyan gave her a questioning look as she entered the war room. Examining the map on the tree stump table, was Solas. 

Trevelyan entered quietly "Hello Solas." The greeting was hesitant. When had he slipped by her? "I thought you would've gone?"

"Why?" He cocked his head amused "Do you so badly wish it to be so?"

"No-no, not at all," Trevelyan blushed and quieted before she went on about missing her former mage companions. She leaned in and whispered "I'm glad that I'm not the only mage in the room." Solas nodded, feeling the same sentiment. Behind her, only Cassandra and the Commander joined in the war room. Trevelyan peered over their shoulders to see Leliana and the fancy noble ducking into another room outside.

"The spymaster and ambassador are researching a lead," Cassandra caught her staring "Commander Cullen will be giving you your first assignment." 

Trevelyan turned to the sickly brute waiting "What may I do for you Commander Cullen?"

"Commander _Rutherford_ , recruit," He snarled with a scrunched nose "You nearly blasted my head off twice in the valley. I suspected the mark did something to your powers but I wasn't certain until then. Solas has offered to help teach you some control. You'll train with him and Lysette until I'm certain you won't be a liability in the field." 

"Respectfully ser, I saved you and your men that day," She reminded "Though it has been some time since I've used my abilities, I have them under control ser."

"Despite the commander's distrust in your abilities, I can assure you this will also serve to provide us more understanding of your mark and how it affects your abilities." Solas reassured.

Trevelyan relented at that "Alright, what kind of training is it?"

Commander Rutherford motioned to the small gold clusters on the war map "There are a few Rifts on the outskirts of Haven that you'll be taking care of. We need them cleared anyway so we can use the main roads," He pulled back and looked seriously at her "It should take no more than a day or two from what I saw in the valley. Mark my words, any later and I'll come drag you back myself."

"Yes ser," Trevelyan replied stiffly. Then it occurred to her "You'll not be joining us?"

"Don't sound too relieved. Lysette, the woman joining you, she's a former Templar as well." He smugly stated all too satisfied with himself.

Trevelyan left, under the watch of Solas, to prepare for their journey. She met with the many colorful characters who were helping the inquisition. Mercenaries, refugees, and even some nobles wore the same uniform as she. Solas remained distant and unperturbed by their staring. There were very few mages within Haven's walls, so she and Solas endured almost equal gawking. Trevelyan pulled her hood up around her face. How quickly she had gone from the source of their ire to the pinnacle of hope. Their indecisiveness gave her whiplash. After collecting their supplies from Threnn, Solas led her a ways into the sparse woods surrounding Haven. Trevelyan was acutely aware that though her pack may have seemed complete, she was still without a weapon.

"What are we doing out here?" Trevelyan asked while flinging snow off the brittle branches she passed.

Solas stopped to look up at a younger tree "I could tell by the way you cast that you had not done so before or, not in some time at least."

Trevelyan leaned on a nearby rock "The Knight Commander didn't allow us to use our abilities at all when the rebellion began," She crossed her arms and sighed "I-I'm a little rusty, I suppose."

"Do not worry," She could hear the smirk in his voice "I will not tell the commander." Solas set his pack down and grabbed hold of the sapling. His hands glowed for a moment and the tree was uprooted. "In fact, I think we should get a little practice in before we go out alone." He set the tree down and handed her a knife. 

She accepted it awkwardly "Are we whittling to practice my discipline or something?" Trevelyan knelt by the slender branch of a tree.

"No, you are going to carve out a staff."

"Same difference," Trevelyan huffed then quickly became worried "Solas, I had a weapon with me when I came to the Temple. It-it's a specially made spear with blade attachments. Has anyone turned in something like that?"

"I have not personally been keeping track of the items recovered from the blast," Solas sympathized "The Commander keeps those things in his cabin but, you might want to go to the ambassador's office instead."

"Ambassador?"

"Lady Montilyet, she is the noblewoman who resides within the Chantry." The woman dressed in fine furs Trevelyan had seen before. It settled her some that she at least knew who to talk to but, to lose the only thing she had left of her friend...

Trevelyan nodded at Solas silently and began chopping off the limp branches and shaving off the knots on the small tree. This was difficult with the short bone knife, the ridged kept getting caught on the splinters. Her ears perked up when she heard the soft sound of brushing nearby. Trevelyan looked over to where Solas sat patiently on a rock a ways from her. He held a small book and was doodling something inside. She could tell he was drawing by the varying concentrated strokes he made with a piece of thin charcoal. _Just like Valerian_ , the thought surprised her. It had been so long since she thought of her elder brother. Trevelyan hoped he had been long out of Kirkwall when the battles began so long ago. They sat like that for a couple hours until eventually, she had a rough wooden stave. It was lighter than her halberd but she missed the little accouterments that gave her old staff personality. Trevelyan twisted the bare wooden stick in her grip. She attempted the familiar stabbing and slashing motions she was used to with the bladed weapon but, they just didn't carry the same weight. 

"Ah, you've finished," Solas stood, trading his pen and paper for his own staff "Did you retain any techniques you saw in the Circle?"

"Not from the mages," Trevelyan demonstrated the strike spin Markus had taught her "Useless without a blade."

"That is-who was your teacher?" 

She straightened "A Templar from Tevinter, why?"

"Nothing," He quickly hid his own interest beneath a neutral smile "We'll just have to do more work is all." 

                                                                                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                                                                              ***

 

Cullen spent the evening searching tirelessly for this mysterious relative who allowed the mage access to the conclave. He searched through every note and ledger Lady Josephine had saved but could find nothing about an unexpected guest or a stolen uniform. There was only one thing he could do. Cullen stood from his desk and threw on his cloak.

“Spymaster I require your counsel,” Cullen barged into Leliana’s tent, closing the flaps behind him “I need to know what you've found.”

“Cullen, you should be resting!” Leliana pulled out a chair and tried to usher him into it but he refused.

"Just tell me."

She sighed and went over to a locked chest "Josephine was ready to believe in the Herald as soon as she stepped out of the Fade," Leliana pulled out a stack of papers and turned to him "Cassandra, when she witnessed her close the Rifts."

"Maybe when I'm certain she wasn't responsible, will I consider the notion," Cullen held his hand out for the documents. She handed them over hesitantly. "What are these?" Most of the text was blotted out or redacted.

"Trials mostly. The Trevelyan's were always searching for new ways to hide their mage children."

Cullen scoffed "Not from you," He squinted at a name that stuck out to him, 'Valerian' "You think she actually belongs to House Trevelyan?"

"The Herald wouldn't be the first Trevelyan mage to escape or even speak out about their families harsh practices," Leliana grabbed another paper and handed it to Cullen. This one was clear and vaguely familiar. "I also found this in my searching." A report from Kirkwall about a nobleman meant to repay the debts of his father to Knight Commander Meredith Stannard. 

"Yes I-I remember this," His heartbeat began to rise and his fists clenched tight around the paper "Mere-the Knight Commander was expecting one of the Bann's children to repay a debt. The boy ran away and the debt was forgiven anyway but, Stannard was intent on finding him. You think he's connected somehow?"

"There is much to be discovered about the boy and his family," She mused "The bann has made quite the effort to keep that part of her family a secret."

Cullen blanched "Is-is the Herald-?"

" _No,_ she is a she,” Leliana stood with a slanted hip “It’s late, get some rest.”

“We’re not done here,” He insisted and finally ducked out of the Nightingale’s tent. The cold winds seemed to cut straight through Cullen’s cloak. He pulled the wool tighter around himself, slightly hunching over. The position put a dull pain on his ribs but, he could manage until he reached the cabin. Cullen tread slowly through the ankle-deep snow admiring the quiet of night. The stars were impeccable out here, clear and bright. The usually busy, overcrowded, loud village was almost dead silent. If it were not for the Breach looming overhead, it might’ve been a beautiful night. It occurred to Cullen that he never took much time for himself since Kirkwall. There had been much to do between the Qunari, trying to prevent the mages from burning down Kirkwall and keeping the townspeople from falling apart sans viscount. He chuckled quietly to himself as he remembered those long nights sifting through stacks of reports so high he had to make room on the floor—much like his current office. Cullen was no stranger to losing himself in his work until morning then forcing himself to carry on into the next day. Some days weren’t so hard. The days when she would drop by with some food and sometimes help with the burden, or even take him into the city and say “Look at all the good we’ve done for them.” Meredith…not a night went by when he wasn't tortured by the depravities she almost made him commit. The ones he _did_ commit.

Culled was overwhelmed with a rush of memories accompanied by a wave of nausea. He’d been her right hand for so long. Under her thumb the entire time she ordered him to cull the Mage population. She was so strong, so maternal. To think he had once compared her to Andraste for the Maker’s sake! Cullen winced in pain; his breathing became hoarse and shallow. His chest heaved. The stars and trees seemed to twist together and whiz past Cullen in slow motion. He shut his eyes tight, trying to calm himself but he couldn’t control his racing heart. The muscles in his arms and legs tensed and spasmed until he could no longer stand. For a moment, Cullen rested in the calm blackness of his mind trying desperately to regain the tranquil aura that settled him just moments ago. However, the memories burned images into him that echoed throughout his being like the screams in Kinloch Hold. Cullen fought so hard, so deep within himself, he had lost track of time and was startled by the sense of another’s presence. Vision filled with blinding white, ears ringing with the deafening shout of his name. And suddenly the world came back.

“Commander…” Trevelyan knelt before him with a stupidly worried look on her face. Before she could reach out to him, Cullen scrambled backwards until he felt a tree against his back. He covered his nose and mouth, stifling his panicked breaths. “Are you alright ser?” She sat up and dusted the snow off her uniform. When she came near, Cullen couldn’t help his immediate revulsion of her touch. He flinched away, yet she still reached again. In an instant, he was filled with rage.

“Don’t—don’t touch me!” Cullen hissed. He could almost taste his venomous tone on the tip of his tongue. Unable to regain an ounce of his composure, Cullen could say no more through his chattering teeth. 

"You're going to freeze out here," She insisted. He ignored her and struggled to pull himself out of the snow. "Commander Rutherford!"

"Shut up!" Cullen spat "If you want to help me, go get the damned Seeker!" He huffed and limped from tree to tree. The mage finally stormed off for Cassandra and he exhaled. It was still difficult for him to be around them, mages. His instincts couldn't decide whether to help or harm them. They were twisted in thorny branches from the hell he'd been through. Cullen finally slumped against the cabin door and pushed it open. His maps and parchment went flying from the cold breeze. He leaned his back against the door to shut it and just sat exhausted for what felt like hours before the Seeker arrived.

 


	3. The Magician

Trevelyan cursed under her breath as she hefted her enormous pack onto her back. She had woken up late and had trouble figuring out what she needed from Threnn. Trevelyan stumbled to a stop in front of the small stables of Haven. Her heavy pack teetered on her back as she looked around for Solas and her new Templar overlord. 

"Over here recruit!" Trevelyan turned to see where the source of the strong Orlesian accent came from. A tall, curly haired woman waved her over from the blacksmith's forge. She wore heavy armor inscribed with the Inquisition's symbol.

Trevelyan approached with a stiff salute "R-Recruit Trevelyan, uh," The words tumbled from her mouth awkwardly "At your service."

"I'm Lysette and you are late," Lysette held out a sheathed knife "The Commander said you would need this. Come, he wants us back by tomorrow evening."

"Wait," Trevelyan accepted the knife confused "I'm not getting a staff or-or even a sword to defend myself?" 

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of her "No," She said gruffly and strapped her pack to one of the horses "Now, where is the other mage?" As if on cue, Solas stepped out of the small patch of trees holding a stave. He handed it off to Trevelyan and silently mounted his horse with only a grey sack on his back. Lysette also began to mount her horse, causing Trevelyan to panic. She had never ridden a horse before. Even during her travels she relied on various wagons and carriages for transport. Trevelyan slowly approached the steed that belonged to her and even in the cold, she began to sweat. The Envy demon she had faced so long ago had taken the form of a spider-like horse with eight hooves. Every time she looked at a horse she wavered, was it a horse or a demon in disguise? Trevelyan attempted to stall by using her shaking hands to strap down her pack but an annoyed grunt from Lysette scared her into working faster. Too soon, she was done and gaining a couple sideways glances from the stable hands across the way. Trevelyan began to pant quietly as she raised a reluctant foot to the stirrup. 

"Need some help getting on?" Solas asked quietly behind her.

Trevelyan felt her chest clench with sudden anger "N-no, I'm fine!" She spat and shakily lifted herself onto the saddle. The horse shifted slightly under her weight, spooking Trevelyan who hadn't gotten her other leg around the horse and was in danger of teetering back. 

"Trevelyan!" She could feel Solas' hands bracing her back, holding her up so she didn't fall "Are you alright?" Trevelyan blushed furiously as she lifted her foot from the stirrup and shook his grasp off of her. 

"Here Herald," Lysette approached with an outstretched arm "Ride with me." With a burning face, Trevelyan accepted the offer and climbed up with Lysette.

"I suppose we can carry the rest of the equipment on the extra horse." Solas offered with a lingering glance at Trevelyan.

"Agreed, I've been given a list of materials we must collect for Threnn. It would do us well to have as much room as possible." Lysette neared her horse to Trevelyan's and attached the reins to the back of the saddle. Trevelyan remained quiet and pretended to be absorbed with the icy horizon for shame of facing Solas. 

The rest of the trip carried on in a much similar way, with Trevelyan becoming increasingly reckless with her attacks. There was more than one instance when she caught her boot on a rock or hole she couldn't see. More and more frequently, Solas stepped in to finish off the demons _she_ was fighting. Trevelyan knew he was only trying to help, but it was grinding against her pride more and more. She was the weakest link, a beginner who needed to be protected in this life or death situation. They approached another Rift. This one spawned amidst a thicket on a short hill. Trevelyan squeezed her marked hand tight as it began to glow, and slipped off Lysette's steed. She glanced back at her companions who had dismounted and stomped toward the Rift. The tear seemed to pulse as shades slipped past the Veil and swarmed the group. Trevelyan sent a fire bolt to separate the group. Lysette charged after the ones to her right and Solas began firing on the group to her left. Trevelyan spun her wooden stave and stilled herself for a moment before she fired. She took a deep breath and focused her energy flow through it and began firing a barrage of energy across the field. The Shades on her end were stunned by the blast. Trevelyan lunged toward the nearest one and thrust her stave through its inky, blob body, pushing it into the snow. She imbued an electrical force through her stave and burnt the creature to a crisp. Trevelyan pulled out the stick and took a triumphant breath. She turned to the two remaining Shades who had recovered and were now charging toward her. Trevelyan flung her stave out in a back spin that shot a blast of fire toward them. They criss-crossed out of the way and reached out with their clawed hands. She quickly ducked out of their grasp, stumbling back onto the edge of the hill. When one of the Shades quickly lunged at her again, Trevelyan raised her stave and held it against the creature. While it held onto the staff, she turned them so its back was toward the slope of the hill and electrified her stave. The Shade began to shiver and convulse as the shocks ran through it before it released its grip and tumbled down the hill. 

"Herald!" Trevelyan felt the burning scratch before she saw the demon sneak up on her. It knocked the stave from her hand and grabbed her, forcing its disfigured face close to hers. Trevelyan held it back with one hand and reached for her knife with the other. She only had enough room to get a few good jabs in its side before it forced her to the ground. She looked up into its milky white eyes as she pushed her arm up with all her strength. In them, the demon reflected something strange. Instead of the woman she was now, Trevelyan saw the young lady she was, looking back at her through its eyes. Her long brown hair was tied in a braid and she wore the Circle's robes. The girl's lips were moving though there was no sound. "What are you doing here?" That's what she was saying. The vision was quickly replaced with the grey overcast sky. Trevelyan rose lethargically and searched around for the demon. Solas stood over its corpse, breathing hard.

He turned to her, face contorted in conflict "What are you waiting for?" He yelled "The Rift, close it!" Trevelyan immediately perked up and began a mad dash toward the Rift before it could spew out more demons. She thrust her stave in the ground, skidding to a halt just near enough for her mark to spark to life. The connection was unexpectedly painful this time around and Trevelyan was forced to hold her arm up with the strain. Finally it closed and Trevelyan slumped forward. The arm with the mark felt dislocated. She rose panting and cradling her arm. Lysette was already leading the horses back to them. 

"Herald, hold," Solas jogged up behind her but, she kept walking "Are you all right? Herald."

"I'm fine," Trevelyan rasped "I just need to rest." He rose a glowing hand, she could feel the tingling of magic in her arm and smacked his hand away. "What the hell was that?"

"I beg your pardon. I need to examine the mark, make sure it's-"

"It is  _fine,_ I didn't _break it._ " She insisted and went to her pack. Rummaging for the map, she could sense Solas still lingering behind her.

He put a hand on her shoulder "I can sense something is wrong, please let me look at it."

"Stop putting your damned hands on me," Trevelyan pushed him back in earnest "Maker, I can't breathe without  _someone_ over my shoulder making sure I'm not fucking all this up somehow. Everyone expects me to be this big bad Herald of who knows what and dole out the Maker's wrath or some shit. Well I'm not perfect, okay? I'm not the Herald of Andraste, I'm Varatise Trevelyan and I just want to go home!" Her breath hitches in shock as soon as the words leave her mouth. Her hands automatically cover her lips as if covering them would shove the words back in. Trevelyan's eyes flick slowly to Lysette who is standing stone still with her eyes wide. She doesn't dare look back to Solas. She couldn't bear to see the shock, anger, or pity that might beheld his face. Instead she turned back to the pack on the horse and listened to him walk away.

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                 ***

 

 

"This is absolutely ridiculous!" Cullen seethed outside his cabin as he watched Leliana's scouts carry off the documents he'd been examining "Leliana  _knows_ there's something in here about the prisoner. What, does she want to be the one who finds it instead of me?"

Cassandra held up a hand "This isn't about who finds what, Commander," She crossed her arms sternly "I gave the order, to stop you."

Cullen stilled and faced the Seeker "I am _fine_ , Cassandra. Last night-"

"The Herald said you had collapsed in the forest. I found you unconscious, sprawled  on the floor as if dead!"

"You were right, all of you," Cullen insisted "I had overworked myself that day. I was suffering from my wounds not my-my..." He took a breath rubbing his neck, frustrated "I should have listened to you all but I didn't."

Cassandra put a hand on his shoulder "I know. But, this distraction hasn't helped your recovery. It's more work that Leliana is already carrying out. Focus on our relief efforts, the people need our full attention and support Commander."

"Why am I the only one who is questioning that woman's motives?" He asked earnestly.

"You're not Cullen," She reassured "We are only trying to-to make the best out of a terrible situation with the tools that have been given to us. You should know better than all of us what that's like." Cullen flinched, gaining a conflicted look from Cassandra. 

She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand "Tell Leliana to keep me updated on what she finds." He tightened his feathered cloak and strode off to perform his duties. "The tools that have been given to us." Maker! He knew better than anyone that you couldn't trust a mage to butter bread on their own let alone help the needy without stabbing them in the back. There was some truth to what Cassandra said though. The Inquisition had become too complacent with who they allied themselves with due to the desperation of their situation. Without Chantry support and the Imperial Highway being blocked by the Rifts, their supplies were depleted by the refugees constantly wandering in and their soldier's own wounded. Lady Josephine has been working hard to gather any donations from the nobles who believed in their ‘Herald’ but it wasn’t enough. Cullen strode to the medical tents, where they were suffering the most. Cullen cringes when he sees some healers cutting up shirts and blankets for bandages. Something has to change.

"You don't understand!" Cullen was drawn to a commotion inside one of the tents "Her name is Gemma. Gemma Mac'Ara." He approached the tent and peeked inside. A bandaged young man with a shock of long red hair was gripping a healer as the others fought to hold him down. Cullen gasped quietly and threw open the tent flaps. It was Tyrell, the boy he'd saved.

"Commander," The healers quickly faced him and saluted.

"Leave us," He watched them look at each other hesitantly "What is it?"

"The boy is insisting he leave to get his sister but, his wounds are not yet healed."

"I'll speak to the boy," The healer nodded and the group filed out of the area. Cullen motioned for the boy to settle back into bed as he pulled a chair up to his bed. "So, Mac'Ara is it? You from the Marches?"

"Yes ser," Tyrell leaned back against the thin straw pillows "Markham. Sis and I were working a job for some nobles in the conclave. Blast hit, we were separated."

"I can have someone check the ranks-"

"No," He huffed a short laugh "You'd have known she were here by now. She's out there, maybe at another camp or somewhere nearby."

Cullen was hit by some sort of nostalgia looking at the boy "Maker willing," He whispered. Haven, Kirkwall, Cullen had heard the same story from nearly every recruit and refugee. He had learned that true or not, men like Tyrell never gave up even when they found out the sad truth. Maker, there was something so familiar about this kid. Cullen rubbed his neck and looked up to the boy's wound "May I?" Tyrell nodded and pushed down the blanket to reveal the bloody bandages. Cullen shrugged off his cloak and removed the bandage. The gaping hole looked more like a stab wound thanks to magic no doubt. He took the bowl of water on the ground and a cloth and began cleaning it.

Tyrell sucked a breath through his teeth "Maker have mercy," He hissed "Thank you commander. Fer this, fer saving me." 

"Don't thank me yet, recruit," Cullen smirked "I'll have you running laps with the rest as soon as you're able to stand." He placed the bowl back on the floor and grabbed some cloth to re-wrap the wound. "I'll see if we can locate your sister in any of the other nearby camps. She as ugly as you?"

"Uglier," He laughed "Thank you again Commander." They saluted each other before Cullen put his cloak back on and ducked outside. He took in a deep shaking breath. Branson. He reminded him of Branson.

"Ser?" Cullen turned to see another scout holding a missive out to him. He accepted it and tore it open immediately.  _Received a request from the Hinterlands, need to plan our next move. Leliana._ Cullen crumpled the letter and stormed past the scout. What could it be now?

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                        ***

 

 

Lysette sat in a tense silence by the campfire they set up together. She helped bandage Trevelyan's wounds without a word. Lysette hadn't brought up her true name and Trevelyan wasn't about to explain her life story to the Commander's lackey. Solas had wandered off hours ago without a word. Trevelyan stood just out of the campfire’s light scanning the snow weighted trees. She cursed quietly when she saw nothing. A breeze blew right through the blanket she bundled herself in. What was that damned elf thinking going off on his own in this cold? Trevelyan trudged back to the campfire and sat across from Lysette. She had spread out the resources they had compiled thus far and was checking the lists given to her.

"We almost done?" Trevelyan asked suddenly.

"Yes." Lysette replied without looking up.

"Al-righty," She wrung her hands idly in the silence "Mad place for a Temple."

"Hm?"

"No towns in sight, surrounded by mountains. Quite the middle of nowhere."

"That it is."

"Huh, reminds me of a farm I used to stay at before this," Trevelyan cocked her head "Where you from Lys?"

Lysette's brow twitched at the nickname "Denerim." She grit.

"Really? First the Blight now this, am I right?" Her only reply was a sharp glare "Too soon?"

"Look, Herald of Andraste or no, my loyalty is to the Inquisition," Lysette stood and began putting away the materials disinterestedly "I will be reporting everything that has and will transpire during this mission recruit. Good or ill"

"Alright, I get it," Trevelyan sighed and stood to go to bed "I just wanted to hear a little average small talk before I have to endure 'Fade this' and 'Veil that' when elfie comes back." She didn't mean that but she wasn't about to spill her guts about how she regrets what she did. 

"My former Knight Captain..." Lysette spoke suddenly, stopping Trevelyan in her tracks "...Kept me from attending the Conclave. I was just a new recruit, hadn't even tasted Lyrium before. He told me I wasn't ready, I told him to screw himself. It wasn't until he died-until the explosion that I realized he was just protecting me. I was too stuck in my own pride to see that when he was alive. Took him dying for me to see he was just looking out for me."

"I'm...sorry." Trevelyan searched for words but Lysette held up a hand.

I've seen how Solas treats you. Even when you were thought to be guilty and they wanted to try and take the mark from you by force, he defended you."

Trevelyan shook her head "But why? I don't know him. I haven't-I haven't even done anything for him."

"He was the only one to see a person and not a weapon when you were found. That hasn't changed. He's just trying to keep an eye out for you." Lysette put on a small smile and gathered her things "We have a lot of ground to cover if we don't want to be late tomorrow." 

"Goodnight Lysette." 

"Night Herald."

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                  ***

 

 

Cullen entered the war room and nodded stiffly to the other advisors "So what's this request?"

Leliana stepped forward and placed a letter on the table "I've received word from a Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle. She wishes to speak to the Herald, personally. She could prove to be an invaluable asset."

"Alright, I'll send a squad to collect her and bring her to Haven," Cullen tapped the table twice "Job well done everybody." Cassandra sighed next to him and he shrugged. 

"We can't simply collect her like a lost parcel, Commander," Leliana sassed "Mother Giselle was last seen helping refugees in an area besieged by both mages and Templars."

"We need to protect her and quell the unrest in the Hinterlands," Cassandra insisted.

"It also wouldn't hurt to send the Herald for recruiting purposes," Josephine offered, not catching his eye.

Cullen pushed his fist into the table "What about-what about the Arl of Redcliffe? Surely he's not standing idly by while his land is being razed?"

Lady Josephine pulled out a small stack of letters, all marked 'Return to Sender' "We've been unable to make contact with Arl Teagan or any other noble for an answer on the matter," She informed.

"This is our opportunity to alter public opinion for the Inquisition and the Herald," Leliana stated.

They all looked to Cullen as if he had any sway on this decision. He sighed and looked at each of them pointedly "I want to lead our forces personally," Cullen demanded.

Cassandra nodded "I will go as well. Make certain everything runs smoothly." He gave her a knowing, irritated look before turning back out of the war room. Cullen sighed, she wanted to observe him, make certain he didn't collapse in the middle of duty. He cursed under his breath as he made his way through the tiny village. Of all people, why did it have to be that mage who found him? Cullen walked down the snow covered steps with a fixed destination of his cabin in mind when the sounds of merrymaking reached his ears. Cullen looked to the left and saw a couple recruits stealing over to the source of the noise. He followed quietly. The Singing Maiden was the small and only tavern in Haven run by an old friend of Leliana’s. It was usually the rest for the sullen refugees and other residents of Haven who wanted to drown their sorrows. Tonight, it seemed to be lacking the sorrowful sort. Cullen roamed over to the tavern. It was stuffed to the point of people lingering outside the doors and windows to look in. He came up behind the soldiers he followed to a window and peered in for himself.

It was Varric playing an intense game of Wicked Grace. Leaning back without even looking at his cards, he was daring his opponents to make a move.

"Whats the score?" Cullen's question startled the two recruits in front of him.

They spun around and saluted with shaking hands "Commander, we didn't hear you!"

Cullen waved off the excuses "The score."

"Fifteen sovereigns and a handful of silvers on the line, ser," They answered "Only one card left. Probably the Angel of Death." Cullen drew his attention back to the game. Varric looked the most at ease. One of the more disgruntled players looked shiftily to the other, trying to detect a tell.

"You alright over there?" Varric asked grinning "You've waited an awfully long time to take your turn."

"Just-just give me a minute okay?" The kid was sweating bullets as he shuffled through his cards for the fifth or sixth time. 

The other player set her hand down "Come on son, we both know the Dwarf is bluffing." The younger man nodded vigorously and drew his hand to the single card.

He looked up at Varric fearfully "Go ahead, kid. Take your best shot." Varric straightened in his seat as the boy's fingers began picking at the edge. Finally he had the card in his hand. He slid the card into his hand and swallowed thickly. The kid looked from Varric to the other player and set his hand down.

"Two knights, two daggers and...the Angel of Death," The boy waited anxiously for the other players to reveal their hands.

The older player laughed smugly "Three knights, two angels. Sorry boys," She nodded toward Varric "Think you can do better, shorty?"

"You just had to be a dick," Varric chuckled and laid out his hand "Three angels, two knights. I win." The crowd began to jeer and jive while the two players took their losses. Cullen smirked and shook his head. He had heard the many exploits of Hawke and his gang of misfits, Varric being one of the most notorious. Cullen didn't know much about the man except he was the Champion's right hand man and now a hell of a bluffer. He walked around to the entrance of the tavern and walked in slowly. He met the wide eyes of the recruits with a small smile and tried to ignore the death levity as the room acknowledged his presence. Recruits clear the bar as he enters hesitantly. Cullen didn't make a habit of eating or sleeping in front of others, not to dehumanize himself but to avoid the questions they would ask. He could see it in their eyes now: What happened after the blight, after the rebellion, were you close with Meredith? Cullen squeezed his fists tight under his cloak and grabbed an empty seat at the bar. He took a deep breath and signaled the bar keep. Maybe a drink would calm his frayed nerves.

Coins rattled on the counter next to him "Two pints please," Varric plopped down on the seat next to him.

"Master Tethras," Cullen greeted "Apologies for interrupting the celebration of your...  _tactful_ victory." He glanced down to Varric's sleeve in which he could see the top of an extra card peeking out.

Varric chuckled but didn't hide the card "Curly, who do I have to stab for this unexpected visit?" The keep brought the foaming beer mugs and set them down in front of them.

Cullen took a long slurp from his cup "Ah," He wiped the dribble from his chin "Stab the wind if you must. I heard the commotion and decided to investigate. Congratulations by the way, you were always adept at keeping your ace hidden." Cullen flicked the small protruding piece of the card, revealing its face.

" _Why_ thank you commander," Varric raised his arm and slipped the card onto the table "You of all people know how difficult it is to keep these things hidden. One wonders what kind of ace you have for the Herald of Andraste?"

"I have no need for cheats and schemes to condemn the Herald," He snapped "The facts are there, if only the others could pull their heads out of their collective asses instead of-"

"Instead of what? Helping refugees and fixing that hole in the sky? Heh, you're the one with his head up his ass."

Cullen downed the rest of his drink, keeping his eyes steady on the shelves behind the bar "Tread no further, Dwarf. I may have spared you in Kirkwall but do not think I am incapable of finishing what I started here and now."

"Oh I have no doubts,  _Commander,"_ Varric leaned in voice low and sharp "I know, you're the same smug prick Hawke deigned to save in Kirkwall. I get it, you're scared. Scared that one of the people you wronged might just want revenge. Scared that the one person who can save us all happens to be the one thing you can't stand. Well buckle the fuck up, Commander. She's gonna be a hero and you, you'll just be one of the sad pricks who got in her way." Varric slid the secret card over to Cullen "If you’re expecting people to believe your bullshit like they did in Kirkwall, you’re gonna need a lot more than an ace in your sleeve." He scooted off the bar stool, leaving Cullen hunched over his mug in rage. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he did his best to not jump out of his seat and ring the little bastard's neck. The bar maid ambled over with a refill which Cullen snatched away and downed. He was going to find that ace and no one would get in his way again.

 

         


End file.
